


Forever ~ by Princess Twilight

by AngelBookofDaysModerator



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Angel Book of Days Challenge, Daddy Issues, Gen, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-03
Updated: 2003-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-31 06:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelBookofDaysModerator/pseuds/AngelBookofDaysModerator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written by Princess Twilight. Posted on the author's behalf by the Angel Book of Days Moderator.</p><p>Late season three, missing scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever ~ by Princess Twilight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thebratqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebratqueen/gifts).



Summer nights are different here, rounder and thicker with sounds that he still finds unfamiliar. On these nights, when the world is obscene with its fast life, he finds himself missing the more recognizable textures of his home dimension. Standing just outside the Hyperion, in the heavy scents of the garden, he recalls the loud and quiet of Quortoth. Sometimes it could be painfully cacophonic with the sounds of dying creatures. At other times, there was only the beating of his heart and the terrible quiet that came before a kill.

Connor twists a string of licorice between his fingers, wrapping the slightly sticky candy around his thumb until he cuts off the circulation. He watches the tip turn an ugly purple before slowly freeing the choked digit from its prison.

He imagines... dangerous things. These things wear a vampire's face.

Behind him Connor hears the approaching click of high heels. He knows immediately who draws near. 

Cordelia.

Perfume. Sex. Rich notes of skin. The mixture of scents that make up her body intrigue him in some intangible way, but he doesn't allow himself to think on it too hard or too often. He could like her, if he let himself; he would never trust her judgement. It would be unwise to do so. He learned to avoid unwise things a long time ago.

Connor turns when she clears her throat softly. Her waiting smile makes him uncomfortable. He shifts uneasily, thrusting fingers that feel thick into the pockets of his pants. Cordelia smiles more often than not, but sometimes she leaves him with the impression of a great, secret sadness that is as old as time, but has never been questioned by anyone around her.

He knows all about secrets.

"Here you are!" Cordelia exclaims as if it's all a great game. 

"Yes," he replies simply, tilting his chin toward the barely visible night sky. The street lights pollute the world above him, and he finds it left wanting. What kind of world doesn't have a sky? "I was looking for the moon. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of it, but the city's lights are so bright... The sky is very different here. I can't get used to it."

Cordelia steps to his side, rubbing her palms along the bare skin of her upper arms as if she's cold. Connor looks at her profile for a single moment, before turning his eyes away. She sighs, wistfully, and then speaks. "Funny thing about different dimensions. The sky is never the same. You'd think it would be at least similar, but they're not."

Surprised, he raises an eyebrow.

"I was the princess of another dimension. Pylea," she explains. Her brow creases. "I suppose I still am. Anyway, that's where Groo is from."

Groo. Boyfriend. Kind of dull.

"Pylea." Connor rolls the name around on his tongue. He supposes that he should be surprised that she's royalty. After all, what would a princess be doing in a place like this, at the side of a creature with such a bloody past? But somehow he remains unflinching at her revelation.

Cordelia... glitters.

"Mmm-hmm." She shakes her head as if to clear away a web of memories. "So we're going to the beach, and you're coming with us."

Not a request.

"The beach?"

"Yes. Water. Sand. All that good stuff. Do you have shorts?"

Connor looks down at his pants clad form in automatic response before the name registers. He conceals his automatic urge to say something nasty, to flinch, to scoff at the idea that he would take something from such a cruel demon. As a pain blossoms beneath his heart, because he *had* taken shorts from Angel, he says, "Angel has given me some, yes." Pauses. "Do you always go to the beach at night?"

Cordelia shrugs, a wry look on her face. "Only when Angel wants to go. After all, we wouldn't want him turning to ashes around all that sand, would we? We'd never be able to put Humpty-Dumpty back together again."

Connor blinks.

When she turns her back on him, his face darkens by degrees until he can feel the weight of his expression sitting on his skull. "No," he says darkly. "We wouldn't want that."

* * * *

His father, his *real* father, the one who raised him, only brought him to the water for cleaning purposes. And they never went at night. If it was deadly to move in the open during the day, it was certainly suicide when darkness fell. The shadows could swallow one whole. 

"Wash fast," his father never failed to warn him. "Never cease to be aware of your environment. Once you lower your guard, you'll be dead before you blink." 

"Yes, Father." He scrubbed his skin hard and fast, until it turned red beneath his callused palms. Until it ached. The water was always cold, and there was never time to linger.

* * * *

They pile into Angel's car. Fred, Gunn, and Connor sit in the cramped back seat, while as expected, Angel and Cordelia ride in the front. Cordelia not by Angel's side? The world seemed to scoff at the very idea. Gunn's knee bumps against his own just as the car starts. Connor forces himself to quell the instinctive reaction to lash out. Gunn is never anything but friendly, though Connor will never understand why he works for Angel.

"I go where the mission goes," Gunn had once told him vaguely. Connor didn't ask again.

He tries to get comfortable in the jammed space and stares at the illuminated windows that they pass. Acutely, he remembers the first mannequin he ever saw. It scared a few years from his life to see the frozen figure standing in an open window like a trapped soul. Only Gunn, wrapping an arm around his neck and dragging him away, had kept Connor from breaking through the glass and saving the still woman from a fate he hadn't understood. Now he shakes his head, his lips lifting slightly slightly, as they pass a store with mannequins in the display window.

Pulling his gaze away from the still figures, Connor focuses on the back of Angel's head. He watches the way the wind tugs at the gelled hair, dragging it out of place. The radio plays low and absently in the background. Cordelia fiddles with the knob in between grasping at wildly flaying strands of her hair. The top is down. She complains about it every now and then, tossing a stern glare in the direction of the vampire in the driver's seat. Gunn coughs quietly at Connor's side. No one knows. They haven't got a clue what is going on inside his head as he stares at his 'father'.

Blood. Revenge. Pain. 

He's surprised Angel can't smell it on his breath.

"Groo didn't want to come?" Angel asks, as if mildly curious. He doesn't carry it off very well. Connor shakes his head at the vampire. Shouldn't he be smoother?

"He's afraid of the water," Cordelia says, and then is silent, tucking her chin against her palm and brooding at the buildings they pass. Angel glances at her. Once. Twice. And then his eyes are back on the road even as a slight smirk slants his features.

Connor's lips pull into a smirk of his own. He's not sure if it's because of Angel's obviousness or how easy it has been to steal his way into their lives and gain their absolute trust. He wonders if it will be just as easy to steal away. He can already taste the satisfied revenge on the tip of his tongue. 

He flinches when Fred's bony elbow digs into his side, in the sensitive place beneath his ribs. Connor glances sharply at her and feels his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline at what he sees. She's adjusting her bathing suit top, cupping her hands beneath her small breasts and situating the cloth over them.

Slowly his mouth begins to drift open.

Breasts. Those are breasts.

He jerks forward when a large hand smacks the back of his head sharply, turning his chin to glare at the offender. Gunn's hard narrowed eyes stare back at him. "That's mine, kid." Gunn warns, low. "Eyes back in your head, okay?"

Connor nods, saying nothing. Beside him, Fred flushes furiously and drops her hands into her lap, fidgeting around like she can't get comfortable. He'd offer to help her, test out the new girl-boy thing that he's learning, but Gunn's presence is still thick at his side. He doesn't care to be torn apart before he gets a chance to avenge his father's death.

A chunk of hair falls into his eyes. He reaches up and shoves it back behind his ear, grunting a little in frustration. His blood is wearing thin, his patience thinner. He finds himself easily annoyed by the smallest pat on the back from Angel's hand. Those hands have killed, tortured, and raped. Often, he finds Angel's eyes on him. In those eyes, Connor discovers a kind of happiness that is too giddy to last, a fear that goes beyond. It unnerves him, even now, and Connor's fingers clech into his palm. He shivers. His arm rubs against Gunn's in a very uncomfortable way.

He will *not* be fooled like Cordelia seems to be. There is no love behind that human mask. There is only the creature that killed his real father. There is only death.

"You ever been swimming, Connor?" Fred asks him, in that shaky, concerned voice of her. She smiles oddly when he looks over at her, and flips her hair behind her shoulder, not bothering to tame it as Cordelia does. "I mean, in the water?"

He wants to ask her where else he could possibly swim, but stifles the urge.

"Yes," Connor says.

Fred's eyebrows curl together like a caterpillar, as if she expects a more in depth answer. Connor blinks at her, but says nothing else. She shrugs, leans forward so she can look at her boyfriend. "Did you bring something to drink?" She asks. Her hair tickles Connor's face as the wind lifts it. He shifts uncomfortably, trying to escape the reach of the wild strands.

Gunn pulls a bottle out of the inside pocket of his jacket and holds it up. The light from the passing street lamps flash over the glass and catches in the clear planes. Connor eyes it, caught for a moment on the simple beauty.

Fred sighs beside him. "I meant something non-alcoholic. Some of us aren't of age." She elbows Connor, chuckling, her mouth tilting up at him as if he should understand the joke. Connor laughs uneasily because the silence would speak too many things that he'd rather no one heard. Fred settles back against the seat. Gunn grumbles without any real irritation.

It's difficult, sometimes, to remember that if they're not with him, then they're against him. The enemy by default.

"Angel!" Cordelia hisses when the vampire turns off the radio. "I wanted to hear that song!"

"Britney Spears does not belong in this car," Angel says, lightly and smiles at her. It's unsettling. 

Maybe Cordelia thinks so as well, because she doesn't fight him on the issue. Instead she snuggles into her seat, an odd expression flickering across her forehead, as if she wants to raise her eyebrows and ask what's making him act so out of character. She says nothing. Soon the car is silent except for the hum of tires against pavement and the city noise around them.

* * * *

He eyes the center of the flame, carefully feeding the fire with a thin block of wood. His father sits beside him, the flickering light casting haunting shades over his wrinkled face. He listens to the sound of the wild at night. He is familiar with the death calls and the iron-tinged smell of blood trailing through the air like smoke.

"Tell me about the world you come from," he begs his father, aware that his voice is too hungry when Father casts him a warning look.

Father sighs. "Steven, I have spoken of this many times since you were a small child. I have grown weary of discussing it."

"But, I want to know," he insists.

Father gazes at him before shrugging his bulky shoulders and focusing his attention on the fire. "There is much sin," he begins in a rusty voice. " Much sin and much pain. When I was last there, it was a plastic world that would melt beneath the right sun. Beautiful, really, in the way death is."

He leans back against the tree. It grows in the center of the one roomed shack. "Do you think it still exists?" Off his father's questioning expression he adds, "Your world? I wonder if it has destroyed itself by now."

"They live wrongly," Father says, and something comes into his eyes. Something that whispers like the sharp edge of a blade, drawing fresh blood from the skin of a freshly killed animal. "But sometimes, it's a sin for a sin, my son. An eye for an eye. You can only punish someone by returning the gesture."

"Like with Angelus?"

Father nods slowly as if his head is heavy. "Yes. As with Angelus."

* * * *

Gravel snaps beneath the tires of the car as it slows to a stop before the shore. They remain still and silent for a moment, as if inertia has drawn them as unmoving caricatures looking out toward the black water.

"It's salty," Cordelia says suddenly, perking up in the front seat. She turns, eyes peeking at him over the seatback. "Just a warning. Sometimes it can sting a little, but you get used to it."

As if Cordelia's speech has given everyone permission to move, they suddenly burst into motion. Fred's elbow ends up in Connor's side again. He winces as she climbs over the edge of the car, a blanket in hand. Gunn climbs out as well, towels bundled in his arm, along with a few bottles that are probably more alcohol.

What had Gunn said to him?

"When you get shit-faced, make sure you don't remember it in the morning."

Connor wasn't sure what the older man had meant. Now he gets out of the car himself, climbing over the side, careful not to trip over the jagged stone next to the tires.

Angel actually uses the door. The seat's leather squeaks as he steps out; he slams the door shut behind him. There's still that unnerving smile on his face; he could break into a whistle at any given moment. He tosses a glance at Connor before stretching his arms into the air as if the ride has tightened his muscles.

Cordelia appears at the vampire's side, a disgruntled expression twisting her face. "Angel!" She pokes him in the shoulder. He turns and stares at her expectantly. Her frown wavers into a smile. "You brought something to swim in, right? I don't want another trauma like last time."

Connor blinks at this, noticing the way Angel suddenly looks everywhere but at Cordelia and shuffles his feet on the gravel like he'd rather be in someone else's skin. 

"Is this another funny story?" He asks, genuinely curious.

Cordelia nods smugly, crossing her arms over her chest. "One of the very funniest I have to tell. You're father is such a dork."

Connor tries not to wince. "I wish to hear it."

Angel groans and leans against the side of his car. His head hangs low in the cusp of his shoulders. Pleased, Connor edges closer to Cordelia, eager to hear the tale that can make a master vampire so very miserable. Anything to make that hideous smile disappear.

"Well," Cordelia replies mock seriously. She dips her head near his, whispering secretly into his ear, her breath washing over the side of his neck in a way that makes his insides twist together in a knot of bitter flesh. "The first time we came to the beach together, a few months ago, I think. Well, your father hadn't exactly been swimming for pleasure in quite a while. Years actually. So, he didn't bring anything to cover his man parts, because he likes to swim without shorts."

Connor frowns. "Man parts?"

Angel groans again, heavier. He slumps further against the car door, mumbling beneath his breath, "How was I supposed to know you wanted me to wear a bathing suit? I've always swam in the nude. You knew that."

Cordelia meets Connor's eyes. It dawns on him. "Oh. Man parts."

She laughs and pats him gently on the shoulder before she turns away, blowing a kiss at Angel teasingly. Connor sticks his tongue against his cheek as he watches Angel's eyes follow Cordelia. They snap back to Connor. The vampire is embarrassed at being caught.

Connor's mouth curls up slyly.

If he could bring himself to hurt Cordelia, it would be the perfect revenge. Angel moves away from the car and grunts at his son to follow them down to the sand. Connor stands back for a minute and watches the four of them grouped close to the water. Fred lays a blanket on the sand flattening out the edges so that there are no wrinkles. Cordelia lights a few candles. Gunn drops the towels near the blanket, placing the bottles on top of them, and rubs his palm over Fred's back. Angel stands at the edge of all of this activity, arms crossed, a satisfied smile tilting his mouth, like the king of his own castle.

Fred stands up and notices him still standing by the car. She cups her hands around her mouth and yells. "Connor, are you coming?"

Connor is warmed by her concern, but gutted by it as well. He steps uneasily onto the sand where his sneakered feet sink. As he approaches them, they take seats on the blanket's corners, the candles flickering around them. For some reason, tears burn behind his eyes. It is not fair that they should look so much like a family.

But then again, his real father always reminded him that life never was.

* * * *

Sundown. The table is set. There is blood beneath his fingernails.

He's failed today. If his father hadn't shown up, wielding the battle ax, he might not have escaped alive from the angry creature. He tries desperately to keep silent and still so that the actively pulsating wounds won't cause trouble for their dinner. It wouldn't do to wreck the night by crying out in pain.

A sound breaks free from his tortured throat without his permission. Immediately his hand wraps around his neck and tries to stifle the noise.

"Stop crying!" His father snaps, banging his fist against the table. The clay bowl in the center of the table that he made as a child rattles. A nut falls out of the bowl and rolls off the table. It bounces lividly across the dirty shack floor. 

His lips tremble, fat with hot blood that has risen to the surface. The animal bit into the left side of his torso. It took a thick chunk of flesh and swallowed it down its wide throat. The wound is covered with a cloth bandage, but there is nothing to ease the pain.

"Sorry, Father," he apologizes. His voice is low; his head is bowed.

The table is marked by scratches, like his father's face. Father stands abruptly, the chair snapping back against the floor, booming loudly in the silence of their home. Steven watches him stalk toward the door, and a whimper burns inside his stomach.

Don't go, he thinks. I'm not ready for you to leave yet.

But his father is not a mind reader, and life is not fair.

* * * *

The water isn't cold. It isn't warm either, but he's having the hardest time with it not being cold. Goose bumps rise on his skin anyway as he ducks beneath the water. His lips are pursed, his eyes shut tightly because it's so fucking dark, and it's not like he could see with them open.

Above the water, he hears the garbled sound of high pitched laughter.

Cordelia or Fred. Probably Cordelia. Fred was on the blanket drinking with Gunn when Connor took his first careful steps into the water. His chest aches from the lack of fresh oxygen, but he stays under, head tilted toward the surface, arms extended into the darkness surrounding him.

*Will I suffocate?*

*Do I need air?*

*Am I my father's son?* The blood rushes to his head as his feet suddenly kick and he rises to the surface, stabs through it, and gulps oxygen into his starved lungs. Angel is at his side almost instantly. The vampire's white shoulders are pale in the moonlight and glint with an unearthly glow. Connor's shoulders are bony. He slips back under the water, away from the demon who is so good at pretending to love.

Angel grins at him. "I was wondering where you'd got to. Enjoying the swim?"

Connor tries to shrug carelessly, but it's hard to do while his arms are stroking the water around him and keeping him afloat. The grin on Angel's face tilts when he gets no answer. It becomes the carefully constructed absent expression that seems more suited to his features. "Would you rather be at home?"

Home? Connor swallows. Why yes, if there is such a thing. "No," he replies. "I'm having fun, I'm just not very comfortable being close to others in the water. I didn't spend my life around this many people."

Angel opens his mouth then closes it and tilts his head to the side. His arms move slowly through the water, and his face darkens. For a second, Connor thinks he's angry about the reminder, but then the vampire backs away, nodding slightly. "You'll adjust," Angel promises. "I had to at first. Cordelia..."

Connor isn't surprised when the vampire trails off.

"Yes," Connor says. "Cordelia."

This is between them now, not such a secret.

A one-sided romance between a demon and a women in love with someone else.

His chest still hurts. He think it might have something to do with the demon swimming away from him. Trust. Angel trusts him. And Connor has a clear view of Angel's back.

* * * *

"I am going to die someday," Father tells his son very softly. "You need to accept my passing with the same stoic pride that we have lived our lives."

He feels tears bloating behind his eyelids and shuts them, ashamed of the emotion. "No. You're never going to die. You can't leave me here."

His father shakes his weary aging head. The yellow sky makes his skin look sickly. "The day is coming when I shall have my revenge, and you will no longer be forced to live in this world."

"You're going to live forever, father."

"Steven," he says crisply, in warning.

"Forever."

* * * *

Connor shivers beneath the beach towel. He sits a few feet ahead of Fred and Gunn, who are making out pretty heavily, taken over by the alcohol, little noises pinching the night air. He has never had sex. But his erection is hard and thick as he listens to the sounds.

Angel and Cordelia are still in the water, flirting lightly, splashing water as they swim. Maybe it's the summer getting to them. Maybe it's the air. Connor doesn't like the way they're acting. Cordelia lets out a little squeal, grabs Angel by his shoulders, and pushes him into the dark depths of the ocean. She laughs loudly, the sound carrying to Connor who sits bitterly, hugging his arms close to his skinny chest.

"I know your secret," he whispers watching them. "How would you feel if I told her what's in your heart? A demon's lust! She doesn't love you. She's too smart. She could *never* love a thing like you, even if you've fooled her into friendship."

Fred and Gunn are too wrapped up in each other to hear his mumbled threats, the alcohol swirling through their blood like the clouds slink through the hot, night sky. Summer nights are most certainly different here, filled with drunken lust. Sin! 

Connor's lips twist to the side in a half-grimance when Angel pops out of the water like a fish. He successfully avoids Cordelia's outstretched hands by grabbing her at the waist, lifting her into the air, and tossing her into the waves on her back. Connor tenses. Will Angel hurt her?

"Cordy, Cordy, Cordy," Angel admonishes loudly, as the woman comes up sputtering, slapping at his shoulder like a spitfire. "I'm a *Vampire*. I don't need to breathe."

Connor can practically see her rolling her eyes. Beneath his breath, he says "Duh" for her.

Angel grins, and Connor can see the flash of the vampire's teeth from his spot on the beach. "I could stay under there forever," Angel says plainly, swimming away from Cordelia as if he's just realized how heavily he's flirted with another man's woman. "There's no way you can beat me at this game."

Connor's chest goes cold.

"Forever..."

**Author's Note:**

> Written for The Brat Queen. Prompt: Connor, dealing with father issues ~ Nothing silly, no incest
> 
> To my Beta Reader, Yseult :) Thanks for working so hard and kicking my ass, darling.


End file.
